


Finale

by AnthemGlass



Category: Hockey - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music & Bands, Blue Devils, DCI, Drum Corps, M/M, The Cadets, The Cavaliers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnthemGlass/pseuds/AnthemGlass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's finals night at the Drum Corps International World Championships and three corps each want the gold bad.  </p>
<p>Inside each corps is more than just a bunch of marching musicians.  There is drama, love, and heartbreak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finale

**Author's Note:**

> Huge fan of marching music in all forms. I have eight seasons of marching band, two seasons of indoor drumline, and one season of drum corps under my belt. (And I taught guard to pay my way through undergrad.... lol. Those were dark years. High school girls can be so mean!) 
> 
> It never crossed my mind until just now to combine my love for marching music and hockey. 
> 
> I'm pretty much a fan of every drum corps (depending on the show) but my heart bleeds baby blue.
> 
> If you don't know anything about drum corps you should still have no real trouble following. Though it's a major faux-pas to say this, just picture marching band and you've pretty much got it. There are big differences. But let's not get cray. In drum corps they march all summer when not in school and sleep every night on gym floors across the country. You are only allowed to do it until you're 21. They compete in about thirty to forty competitions all across the country (usually to sold out crowds) with finals at Lucas Oil Stadium (home of the Colts). Drum corps are considered the highest and most intricate forms of outdoor marching music. This fic takes place during that final day.

**_FINALE_ **

A distant, almost inaudible pitch began to invade Patrick’s dreams.  He sleepily opened his eyes, fighting the instinct to awaken for a chance to have every possible second of sleep.  The pitch squealed again.  Lazily he turned in his bedroll to find a sleeping bag next to him empty – deflated against the gym floor.

“Fuck,” Patrick groaned.  He pushed against the floor, sitting up and feeling the joints in his body crack and cry against the movement.  He surveyed the dark room, all the other guys were still fast asleep.  He checked his watch 1:13AM. 

It only took him a few minutes to follow the sound to a small patch of grass outside double doors on the far side of the gym.  Now that the barrier of the doors was removed, the sound rattled Patrick’s sleep laden brain. 

“What the fuck Jonny?”  Patrick groaned rubbing his eyes. 

“Go back to sleep,” he replied, cold and calculated as he practiced the solo once more.

“You’re going to wear yourself out,” Patrick continued.  “And that’s not going to help us at all tomorrow.”

“I chipped it,” Jonny stated, as if that made all of this okay.

“It happens.  That’s the first time this season you’ve done it,” Patrick was unfortunately feeling himself waking up. 

“It cost us a 0.1 of a point.  That could be the difference,” Jonny returned to his trumpet and played the solo again.

Patrick slowly stepped up behind Jonny and wrapped his arms around Jonny’s torso and embraced him softly.  Jonny sighed, hiccupping a bit as he did.  “I don’t want to be the reason we lose.”

“It’ll be okay.  You’re going to be great Jonny,” Patrick nuzzled against his neck, placing a few kisses.  “Tomorrow is going to be amazing.”

Jonny finale put his horn down, a mad, red ring still evident on his lips.  “I don’t want it to end.”

“Every season comes to an end Jonny,” Patrick squeezed a bit.  “But this doesn’t have to.”

Jonny closed his eyes and leaned back in the embrace, wishing he could freeze the moment.

 

*~*~*

 

“Fuck,” Kesler whispered smacking his head against the cold linoleum behind him.  He stared down at Alex on his knees, Kesler’s cock in his mouth.  Alex mouth was perfect, a thing of extreme pleasure.  “Fuck,” Kesler groaned again.

Alex moaned around Kesler’s dick, the vibration causing Kesler’s knees to shake.  The image of Alex in front of him, on his knees in the men’s restroom of this high school gym was something Kesler would never forget. 

He felt himself getting close.  He groaned louder while warning, “I’m gonna come!”  Alex sucked harder, flicking his tongue playfully before Kesler exploded with a brief, but muffled shout.  Alex sucked, swallowing Kesler’s load before pulling off and smiling.

“How was that?”  Alex challenged. 

“Fucking amazing,” Kesler moaned in the brief afterglow moments of the perfect blowjob.  The realization of what had just happened began to set in.  A gay guard guy had just blown him.  Kesler felt his face heat with shame and regret before pushing away from Alex.  “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Alex shrugged.  “Gotta say… Didn’t think YOU were gay though.”

“I’m not gay.”

Alex laughed for a moment before realizing that Kesler was serious.  “Wait what?  What do you call what we just did?”

“A blowjob.”

“With a guy…”

“A mouth’s a mouth,” Kesler shrugged, unable to keep eye contact.

Alex huffed in frustration.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  I mean I figured you were a closet case…  but that level of denial is sad.”  Alex stood, his knees popping with the movement.  He pushed against Kesler, causing his to fall against the bathroom wall.  “Next time you want to get off, find a chick on the guard.”

“Yeah?  Well fuck you!”  Kesler attempted, but Alex was already gone. 

 

*~*~*

 

Sid tried blinking away the pain.  “Not today,” Sid mumbled.  His headache flared angry, the remnants of his concussion rampantly testing his head.  “Fuck.”

“Sid?  You okay,” a familiar Russian voice asked behind him. 

“Yeah,” Sid hoped he was convincing.  “I’m fine, just tired.”

Geno placed one of the two plates of pancakes he’d brought over.  “Food?”

“Pancakes?”

“Is made by staff… so is better,” Geno clarified.  “Eat.”

“Thanks Geno,” Sid said shaking his head, hoping the pain would pass.  If his concussion flared today, he’d risk everything.  The entire corps relied on him as their drum major to guide them through the show and perform the best they could possibly perform.

“George Hopkins make good pancakes,” Geno said a mouth full of syrup and pancake.

Sid laughed.  “You’re so weird.”

“You love me,” Geno winked.

Sid blushed.  He hadn’t actually told Geno he loved him yet.  But that didn’t make it any less true.

 

*~*~*

 

Rehearsals with The Cavaliers during finals week felt like seven-hour performances.  Tons of people showed up for to see them, as they’re like free performances, minus a ton of clothing and plus a lot of yelling.

After the sixth time through the closer Jonny still hadn’t hit the note.  Patrick frowned behind his contra he was being forced to hold in front of him.  He fought through the pain imagining that Jonny was going through worse.  He looked so disappointed in himself, like his mistake was bringing the whole corps down. 

One of the trumpet techs had pulled him aside and seemed to be giving him a calm yet stern talk about the solo.  He likely was asking if Jonny would be able to handle it.  Jonny seemed determined despite the hint of doubt hiding behind his façade.  Only Patrick could pick that out.

The break for lunch couldn’t come soon enough.  Though as Patrick had expected, Jonny disappeared to work on the solo.  Patrick got two plates and went in search of Jonny, again following the distant pitch. 

 

*~*~*

 

Kesler had never truly realized just how many pass-throughs the snare line and the guard did in this show.  It seemed like every time Alex was the one he had to pass by causing a red flare of shame each time his eyes met the angry gaze of the man who’d blown him the night before.

Alex was a rookie with the Blue Devils, but he’d marched a different corps previously so he understood the dynamics involved in drum corps.  Sometimes there are assholes.  Kesler just hoped that Alex didn’t hate him – even though he still couldn’t quite figure out why he cared so much.

“What’s eating you?”  Kevin asked.  “You missed that last cadence.”

Kesler gripped his stick harder, wondering if it was possible to snap it in half.  “Nothing,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” Kevin chuckled.  “Whatever fancy pants.”  Kevin was alluding to Kesler’s usual fancy stick work, but with the previous night in mind, Kesler took it the wrong way.

Kesler couldn’t fight the sudden rage that’d ignited in his body at the quip.  He decked Kevin, sending his drum flying and landed to good punches before the Sedin twins from the tenor line and Maxim, the bottom bass, pulled them apart.

“What the fuck?”  Maxim shouted while he pulled Kevin back from a lunge.

“Shut your mouth Kevin,” Kesler spat.

“Fuck you!  What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Is last day guys,” Daniel tried.

“Calm down and we be done,” Henrik added.

“Just keep him away from me,” Kesler said shaking off the twins and walking off.  Before he got far he saw Alex standing by the food truck, staring.  He seemed disappointed and Kesler felt a resurgence of shame and regret.  He knew he was immature and childish, he just didn’t know how to fix it.

 

*~*~*

 

“You sure Sid is okay?”  Geno asked during a quick water break.  His enormous euphonium, hung at his side, highlighting the beautiful muscle of his arm. 

“I’m fine,” Sid replied wiping his naked chest with his t-shirt before climbing the podium to continue rehearsal.  Sid felt his stomach tumble – he wasn’t fine.  The headache was worse.

The corps of half-naked young musicians twisted and turned in a kaleidoscope of hypnotizing and perfectly designed drill while blasting a symphony of sounds like only brass and percussion could manage.  Tonight in the maroon and gold the show would have that final finishing touch to make it the most perfect showing the ensemble could manage.

Sid sometimes felt his gaze leave the feet of the center snare for a brief moment so he could witness his Geno in the drill.  He always knew where he was.  A summer of the same show was enough for anybody to know a show front and back.  Geno held the massive silver instrument in front of his body, blasting the music like the proud Russian he was. 

Their gaze met and for a moment the headache faded to a dull pain.  However the minute Sid returned his attention to the center snare and the tempo of the show, it returned with a vengeance.

 

*~*~*

 

Patrick pulled Jonny behind the bus for a quick moment, placing a well-deserved kiss on his lips.  He’d hoped the showing of affection would help ease Jonny’s nerves before their final show.

“No PDA in uniform,” Jonny replied in his trademark serious tone while adjusting his green jacket to its perfect placement on his sculpted body. 

“Fuck you too,” Patrick smiled.  “You’re going to be great.”

The serious façade dissipated leaving only a worried gaze, Jonny’s eyes wide with impending fear.  “What if I’m not?”

Patrick covered Jonny’s mouth.  “You are going to be phenomenal.  I love you.”

Jonny smiled weakly.  “I love you too Patrick.”

“Good.”

 

*~*~*

 

“Hey Alex!”  Kesler tried, but Alex, decked out in his brightly colored uniform, kept walking.  “Come on!”  Kesler managed to grab onto Alex, forcing him to stop.

“What?”

“I just…” Kesler froze, his nerves caving in the moment.  “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious?”

“How serious,” Alex tested.

“You were right.”

“I know.  But do you?”

“Yes…” Kesler choked on his word.  “I am gay,” he managed to whisper.

“Good for you.”

“I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

Alex frowned and patted Kesler’s shoulder.  “It’s fine buddy.  You’ll get there someday.  Maybe we can fool around next year.”

“I’m aging out,” Kesler frowned.  He’d reached his final possible year of marching drum corps.  Everything was coming to an end and Kesler felt like it was all just starting to blossom. 

“You’ll find someone,” Alex sighed.  “Good luck.”

Kesler stood alone in his black plants and under armor while Alex walked away towards the pageant of color that was the Blue Devils Color Guard warm-ups.  He couldn’t tell if Alex had meant good luck for the show or good luck for the future.  Both felt equally depressing.

 

*~*~*

 

“If you ask if I’m okay I will punch you,” Sid groaned as he released his head from his palms.

Geno held his hands up in silent surrender.

“You ready for the last show?”

“Don’t want it to be last,” Geno frowned.

“But hey, we’ll get to sleep in BEDS after this!”  Sid smiled.

“Maybe we sleep in same bed?”  Geno asked wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“That’d be hard considering you’re going back to Russia and I’m returning to Halifax.”

“Well…” Geno smirked a mischievous expression.

“What?”

“I have ticket to Halifax and layover there until Russia.”

“Ha!”  Sid laughed, Geno must’ve really worked to orchestrate that.  “How long’s the layover.”

“A year,” Geno replied.

“Do you know what a year is Geno?  I think you’re a bit confused.”

“No, is year,” Geno nodded.  “I go there, then go to school at Halifax Conservatory for a year, then visit Russia for summer after school year.”

Sid gaped.  Could it be possible?  Geno had transferred to the Halifax Conservatory, Sid’s school.  “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Geno smiled, confident that Sid’s reaction was a good sign.  “Is good surprise?”

“It’s incredible,” Sid said leaping into the unsuspecting Russian’s arms and placing a rough but joyous kiss on his lips.

“Need to surprise you more!”

 

*~*~*

 

Patrick almost couldn’t play the his phrase.  Jonny had done it.  His solo was solid.  Better than he’d done it all season.  Patrick smiled into his mouthpiece before returning his head to the field and finishing up the show, sweat pouring down his face as he pushed harder than ever to finish out the amazing season.

“You did it,” Patrick smiled as he and Jonny undressed on the bus. 

Jonny flushed red.  “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Someone’s got to keep you grounded, keep your head in the game.”

Jonny laughed but it fell to a sad expression.  “What’s going to happen to us?”

“Us?”  Patrick shrugged.  “What do you mean?”

“We live in two different countries.  After this season I leave for nine months.”

“But you’re coming back next season right?”

“Yeah.”

Patrick smiled.  “I may come across as the partier who can’t keep it in his pants, but contrary to popular belief, I am capable of a long distance, monogamous relationship.”

“Relationship?”  Jonny smiled at the word.  “Like boyfriends?”

“Yeah,” Patrick grinned.  “I just hope you still like me after your tour goggles wear off.”

“I hardly like you now,” Jonny quipped before placing a kiss on Patrick’s lips.  “I’ll visit.”

“You’d better.”

 

*~*~*

 

“Good show,” Kesler tried, nervously pressing the tip of his marching shoes into the ground. 

“Thanks,” Alex sighed, still drenched with sweat from their intense performance.  “You too.”

“Would you…” Kesler swallowed nervously.  “Could you ever forgive me?”

Alex chuckled.  “Listen buddy, you’re forgiven.  It wasn’t that bad.  I’m not some fragile flower.  You just need some time before you can handle a guy like me.”

“How much time?”  Kesler pressed.

Alex squinted at the question, as if trying to read what Kesler was going after.  “Depends.  You’ll know when you’re ready.”

“What about in nine months, at the start of the next season?”

“I though you said you were aging out?  You can’t march next year,” Alex questioned.

“I’m teching the snare line next season.  Just found out,” Kesler smiled nervously.

Alex held a straight face before dissolving into a sexy grin.  “Well buddy, you come back next year and maybe, if you’re ready, we can see where it goes.”

“Yeah?”  Kesler sounded embarrassingly hopeful.

“Yeah,” Alex paused in thought before adding, “Plus doing it in secret with a staff member seems really hot.”

 

*~*~*

 

Thunderous applause erupted.  The Cadets were the last of the corps to perform for the evening.  Sid held his straight face, a testament of his resolve as a leader and a showing of toughness against the other corps.  Inside he was rejoicing.  He’d made it through even with the worst headache he’d ever experienced. 

The rush of adrenaline faded as he turned back to the corps and very soon the pain erupted and took over.  Sid watched as his eyelids shut, darkening the world before he fell to his side, off the side of the podium.

Seemingly only moments later his eyelids reopened to a dark room.  Stiff sheets padded his back and two pillows propped his aching head.  His body hurt, probably from the fall he kind of remembered.  The sterile scent of the room invaded his senses.  He found a crumpled body, too big for the chair it was oddly folded into.

“Geno?”  Sid whispered.

Geno perked immediately jumping from his seat.  “Sid!  You okay?”

“Ugh,” Sid managed to reply.

“You said you okay, but you not okay,” Geno shook his head.  “Stupid Sid!”

“We did it though, we got through the show.”

“Yes,” Geno flashed a huge smile.  “Best show ever.”

“You looked great out there,” Sid added.

Geno paused a moment before nervously saying, “Sid, I love you.”  It sounded like he’d been practicing the phrase.  Much of his accent faded away as he stated the four words as carefully as possible.

Sid smiled wide.  Incredibly he was happier now than at the finish of their show.  “I love you too, Geno.”

Geno sighed in relief.  “One more thing Sid.”

“Yeah?”  Sid turned his head to stare at Geno.

“Practice at surprises.  You bad at surprises.”

“What?”

“I surprise with Halifax Conservatory,” Geno continued.  “You surprise by falling at show.  Bad surprise Sid.  Bad surprise.”

Sid smirked.  “I’ll work on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary of Terms:
> 
> Aging Out - when a member reaches the age of 22 and can no longer march.
> 
> Contra - a big ass tuba that you rest on one shoulder. when at attention (not playing) it is held out in front of you. people who play this instrument have a magical quality because they are fucking heavy.
> 
> Drum Major - the conductor of the drum corps. always a member of the corps.
> 
> Euphonium - the largest of the brass instruments that are held in front of you while playing. low instrument like a small tuba. sounds pretty and loud.
> 
> George Hopkins - George Hopkins [inside joke with drum corps peoples]
> 
> Halifax Conservatory - completely made up by me
> 
> Tech - a teacher in a drum corps specific to one instrument. every instrument has at least one but usually two techs.
> 
> Tour Goggles - as the season progresses, people get tanner and skinnier. so by the end of the season everyone's a bit sexier than they normally are. 
> 
> Why is everyone naked? Because you march all summer in horrible heat all over the country. Performers wear small gym shorts and NOTHING else (girls wear sports bras too). This helps prevent ridiculous tan lines and helps to keep performers from overheating and dying. Sometimes (I'm looking at you TEXAS) places have laws or ordinances about how naked we can be. In those cases we wear t-shirts that looking like they've been run through a lawn mower.


End file.
